


Warmth

by Severina



Category: Dark Harbor (1998)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1902846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Chilly out there," he murmurs over the rim of his cup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's smallfandomfest for the prompt "coffee". In the movie we see the Young Man enter the cabin on the ferry, and a moment later David exits the same cabin. Here's some creative license on what happened in those few minutes.
> 
> * * *

The boy huddles down into his jacket, tucks his hands beneath his armpits. But the cold has gotten into his bones now, after a long night spent huddled and hiding on the ferry and then the wind off the lake buffeting at him once they finally got underway. He sniffs into his sleeve, wipes at his wind-stung eyes and blinks wearily. He doesn't think he'll ever be warm again.

Missing the damn boat the night before was not in the fucking plan. 

He ducks his head when the door to the refreshment cabin bangs open, his cautious gaze following a woman in a bright green scarf with a cup of steaming coffee in hand. He can't exactly smell it, but he _imagines_ he can. He swallows dryly, imagines the rich bitter taste of it on his tongue, the intoxicating aroma, the way it would slide smoothly down his throat to warm him from the inside out. He almost starts to get to his feet, the overwhelming urge for warmth overriding the need for secrecy. He'll admit sneaking on board to the damn harbor master himself, scuttle David's entire almighty master plan if it just means he can get some feeling back into his frozen limbs.

He scowls into his collar, forces himself to stay put. He pushes the image of the coffee away – the strong taste, the pungent scent, the delicious burn as it goes down – and imagines David's house on the water instead. There are fireplaces, David has said, and an old-fashioned claw-foot tub. When the house is his – theirs – he will soak in hot water in that tub for hours, wrap himself in an oversized robe and drink cherry brandy from a crystal goblet in front of one of those fireplaces. He will never be this cold and uncomfortable again.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but the crash of the waves against the stern wakes him some time later. He blinks dazedly for a moment before a gust of wind tugs at his collar and memory comes rushing back. He shivers as he sits up and shrugs into his jacket, peeks carefully out at the deck.

He just catches David entering the refreshment cabin out of the corner of his eye.

He fights against the rush of sudden anger he feels at the man. David managed to sleep in a comfortable motel bed all night long, has been sitting in his warm car for this interminable journey while he is forced to hide like a goddamn fugitive. He pictures David plucking a Styrofoam cup from the table, filling it with sweet elixir. When his stomach rumbles he realizes he hasn't eaten since before the whole roadside fiasco the day before, and he mentally adds David munching on a biscuit or a sweet cruller to his mental scenario. 

It isn't fair. And in the space of one heartbeat to the next he decides to disregard all of David's warnings, his "safety measures" that he seems to think will ensure his plan will go off without a hitch. He gets quickly to his feet, shakes some life into his frosty limbs and heads to the cabin. After all, what's life without a little risk?

The door creaks when he pushes it open, and he stands hesitantly in the entranceway, getting his bearings. There is an urn of coffee on the counter in the middle of the room, several plates of cookies and pastries. A bored looking steward chatting to a woman in a long suede jacket. And David, who looks up uninterestedly at the sound of the door, and whose eyes widen in shock when his presence registers.

The young man suppresses a smirk as he strolls over to the coffee pot, chafes his hands together before reaching for a cup. He fills the liquid to the brim, closes his eyes and inhales the exhilarating aroma. He can feel David's eyes on him, sharp and intense, and he opens his eyes, blinks lazily at the other man before taking a long deep swallow. It's not exactly the premium Columbian blend of David's that he's been imagining for hours, but it's strong and bitter and he can already feel the warmth of it seeping into his cold and tired bones.

"Chilly out there," he murmurs over the rim of his cup. 

David's eyes dart to the steward before returning to his, just on the edge of panic. "What are you doing?" he grits out, the words barely audible over the sound of the waves, the bass rumble of the steward's voice as he chats to the woman. "Get out of here!"

Perhaps it's the lack of sleep or the sudden caffeine rush, but all of David's rules – "we can't be seen together, you must stay hidden on the ferry, no one must know you are even on the island" – seem trivial and ridiculous. No one will remember two 'strangers' chatting over a cup of coffee, least of all some underpaid cabin boy who's barely paying attention. 

The boy leans his hip against the counter, lifts a shoulder. "Needed something to warm me up," he says softly just before he leans forward and palms David's groin. 

David jerks back. The hot coffee spills over his hand, though he hardly seems to notice. But now the steward is looking, rushing forward with a napkin and words of concern. The young man merely smirks, turns his back on David as he brushes off the cabin boy and quickly leaves the cabin. Back to his warm car. Back to his pretty blonde wife. 

He smiles, reaches for a doughnut. He needed this, and not just hot coffee to warm his guts, food to fuel his coming enterprises. His palm still tingles from where it brushed against David's cock, the thick shape of it still imprinted on his skin. The twitch of interest before David jerked away reminding him that all of David's cruelty and indifference during that long car ride in the late summer storm was just a façade. 

David wants him, needs him. And soon enough they will be curled together on that four poster bed that David's talked so much of in the past few months, warm beneath a pile of blankets. They will wake together and he will give David a long slow blowjob as the sun creeps up in the sky, and then they will sit in a sun-washed kitchen and plan their day together.

It will happen. He just has to hold down his part of the bargain.

The young man sips at his coffee, and thinks about mushrooms.


End file.
